Selah

Selah is found 71 times in the book of Psalms

and three times in the book of Habakkuk. There

are many different definitions for this

beautiful word: in Greek, it is an interlude or

intermission, in Hebrew, it can be a break,

a silence, a pause, in Arabic, it is a prayer or

a connection.  Other sources refer to Selah

as a rock or even forever.  Early in my church

years, I learned that this was a time to rest. 

A holiday. A break.  Respite.

Although this was forced upon us, quarantine

has offered Selah, a time to slow down. 

To enjoy the time with Liberty and to see her

for her beautiful self as she is today. To

embrace the time with Rachael

and love her through her healing. 

To relish the conversations

with my family and cull out time

together. To delight in seeing Mariah and

her new husband as they create

a life of love. I have also learned many

things about myself.  To appreciate the

beauty that is to sleep and sit and be

still (as best as I can).

Selah. 

With this forced rest, I have come to realize

that I need to listen to the immense noise in

my head and categorize it as

useful or useless.  Much of the discordance

in my world is my own symphony less and

full. Useful noise may be reminders of what I

need to get done and has notes I can follow. 

Useless maybe guilt over believed past

transgressions or even presumed failures

and follows no rhythm. Useful noise can be

unpacked and taken care of.  Useless

noise cannot.  Too often, the useless noise

has occupied

my mind and kept me doing what needs
to be done. 

My brain tends to go 100 miles an hour 24

hours a day. I have spent years forcing it

to slow down so that I can sleep.  I’ve often

mused that it takes a freight train to slow

me down. Once I gave myself permission

to stop and listen,

I can put that cacophony into a pile and

either deal with it or throw it out.  Mostly. 

I am a work in progress.  A new skill I

am hoping to hone over time. Like most

things worth listening to, well done practice

is key.

Blessed with a beginning melody of Selah of

the mind untangling these noises have been

easy- in a way.  Useful noise is positive and

useless noise is ugly.  I’ve learned that the

most important conversation

I am going to have is with myself, and my

interior dialogue was terrible.  Mean. Ugly.

And riddled with self-deprecation.  Now,

when my revelry is interrupted, usually

when I am exhausted or overwhelmed,

I can call the useless noise what it is and

move on.  Just like in real life, I don’t have

to join the refrain.  

Being a mom to a child with many special

needs is a heavy gift to bear. At times is a

heavy burden that broke me. Other times

it has hurt so much I wish I had broke.

But at all times, loving Liberty is the

easiest thing to do. Even when she is

crying and no one knows why except her.

Even when she lost the ability to control

her speech, arms, her legs, her bladder

and her bowels. Wonderfully, she hasn't

lost her smile. This isn't any gig full of restful

phases; it is too often a crescendo

of heavy overwhelming growth. Yet it is

so worth it.

The moments of Selah are beyond.

Rona has forced me to listen.  To hold the

rest as important as the notes in between.

In this, I have been blessed.  This

time is ending.  I hope to keep the true

sense of Selah with

me in all of the varieties
of the word.  

For all of us, I hope that we can find and keep

our concerto of Selah going as we return to

in-person working.  Taking the positive lessons

from the quarantine with us may be the hardest

lesson of all. I wish you will know you are needed.

And appreciated. And capable.  And loved.

And your own Selah.  And maybe, we are

Selah to another who

needs it.

I am grateful.

Be safe and well.

ileana

 **Capitalizing the word Selah for effect**

Vent

I am going to have to be brutal for a few minutes.  I need a break- a serious break.  I feel like I've been fighting for Libby's life and worrying about Mariah's for so long that I don't really care about mine anymore. I hold so many of these types of thoughts in that if I ever start to let it out, the steam may burn!  Maybe a little vent every now and then will help.

At this moment, I am okay.  Libby slept through the night and has had her breakfast and round one of meds.  Rachael gets to sleep as long as needs since night before last Libby had her up four times.  

I need a break. Rachael needs a break. Rachael probably needs a break from both of us. I have caught myself saying more and more that I am not the parent I'm supposed to be. My tolerance for Libby's whining and ability to have a perspective on her needs is diminishing daily.  My stamina is much lower.  I am more and more disconnected from my own feelings and needs.  I'm no expert, but this isn't good. 

We need a break. I am having more jealousy and anger towards other grown ups who get to go to the movies, to eat, to grocery shop, to simply sit and talk with their other half.  Serious jealousy.  (The mean girl in my head responds to Facebook posts..."I'm sorry, you only got to see one movie this weekend and managed to eat out together twice.  That must be rough.  We spent the weekend taking care of Libby and the fifteen other areas."  

Our relationship account is very low in funds.  I keep taking and taking from Rachael and it feels like I can't give anything back except for heartache, increasing needs and exhaustion.  Why would anyone chose to be a part of something that is so draining and heart wrenching?  We have given so much away, what is really left? 

Since before November of last year we have had a total of 40 hours away.  That was divided into two days.  There is not a  time that I don't wake up in a frenzy of anxiety to get her meds to her and take care of her needs. My patience seems to be dwindling, just when Libby (and Mariah) need more.  

I'm not saying all of this to get sympathy or a torrent of comments about how I can take advantage of friends to get us some real respite care.  I'm saying it because it needs to be said.   I am human and I am still somewhat young and at some point I would like to enjoy something again without the guilt.  (She says feeling guilty as she types this.)

I'm not saying this to get the great slap of a comment that I made the choice to have this child, I can simply deal with it.  Yep.  Got it.  That kind of attitude toward parenting is barbaric.  Every parent needs a break of some sort, that's why it takes a village.  (Remember, Libby even goes with me to school.) And, too many of our close family have health issues and Libby requires a higher level of physical ability.  (Part of why we work out so much and eat so healthy.)

Now, if I post and share this, family and friends will stop asking us for, or allowing us to help. Too many already try to "protect us", which is crap.  We are tough.   But, we need a break, before we have given too much of US away. 

If I seem pissy, this may be why. If I seem exhausted, this may be why.   I worry that I will lose my mind and be found in a fetal position, in a small corner, eating my weight in ruffles.   Or I'll go postal and start telling, the seemingly selfish people around, off.   Ruffles may be the meltdown of choice. 

I'm sharing because we are not alone.  I mean, we have support and we are grateful so we are not alone. But today, we ARE alone.  No one is coming to help today.  Every bite Libby takes, I'll feed her. Every pill she needs, I'll give her.  Every trip to the restroom involves me. Love this child and love that she's mine, but I need a break.

We are not alone.  Many caretakers are in the same boat.  People want to help, but they have their own lives. They want to help, but they aren't sure how or they are overwhelmed by the needs of this child. The longevity of couples who take care of special needs children is not good.  Divorces already happen all too often. You add the stress and heartache involved with Libby and the numbers go up even more.  We need to make some serious deposits into our relationship account.   

I have to find a way to save myself and my relationship.  I have to.  I need a break.  

**Hopefully, no friends or family will be harmed in the post.**